


How To Have The Most Agonizing Yet Best First Date Ever: A Guide by Sidney Crosby

by hockeylover14



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: AU where they work in an office, First Dates, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I just wanted to write something short and cute, M/M, Sharing a Bed, because the other thing I'm writing is a 200k super angst behemoth, it's pretty basic, was supposed to be 1k but oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 17:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11166801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hockeylover14/pseuds/hockeylover14
Summary: Oh god. The hot new Russian was walking towards his desk. Be cool, Sid. As if he’d ever been “cool” in his life. Shit.





	How To Have The Most Agonizing Yet Best First Date Ever: A Guide by Sidney Crosby

**Author's Note:**

> This was highkey based off of a Buzzfeed would you rather question that asked "Would you rather get a migraine or horrible diarrhea on the first date?" I wrote this as a distraction from the angsty behemoth I'm currently working on so it's totally unbeta'd and literally just self-indulgent fluff. Enjoy

Oh god. The hot new Russian was walking towards his desk. Be cool, Sid. As if he’d ever been “cool” in his life. Shit. Now the new guy was only thirty feet away. Had his desk always looked like a tornado just blew through? Were his papers normally this messy? Twenty feet until he was at Sidney’s desk. No. All these random tabs open on his computer would give off the wrong message. And, oh my god, he’d loosened his tie at some point today. Was he asking to be seen as a slacker? Apparently. Only ten feet remained between Sid and the hot Russian guy. The Chinese food! How could he have forgotten to throw away yesterday’s takeout lunch? Jesus Sid, get your life together.

 

And boom. Hot Mr. Russia was here.

 

“Uh hi. How can I help you?” Oh no, that came out bitchy. “Um uh sorry, I meant…” And the embarrassed blush makes a grand entrance. Sidney had fantasized about finally meeting his office crush for weeks, and this was _not_ what he imagined. It couldn’t possibly be going worse.

 

The man let out a little laugh. “Mr. Crosby, yes? I Mr. Malkin.”

 

“Just Sid is fine,” he said meekly.

 

“Then you just call me Geno.” Sid swore he saw the man’s — no, _Geno’s_ eyes twinkle as he leaned against the corner of Sid’s desk. Was he enjoying Sid’s embarrassment? And why did Sid find it kind of hot?

 

Awkwardly, Sid responded. “Oh okay. Hi, Geno, I guess…” That was weird. That was really weird. Why was he like this?

 

Geno laughed a full, hearty laugh, much stronger than before. “You little strange, yes? Not worry, though. Is cute.” He winked at him. Geno _winked_ at him. Oh heavens, he was flirting, wasn’t he? Sidney’s blush spread like a forest fire in August. At this rate, he’d be on fire by the time Geno finally told Sid what he needed. Lord save him. “Anyways, I’m told to give you script for next episode of _Medieval Mistresses._ They want you check for, uh,” Geno made a (rather cute) face as he searched for the word, “historical accuracy,” he finished with a snap. Sid giggled a little because, apparently, he was a high school girl and not a grown ass man with a fancy history degree and bills.

 

“Okay. Uh, is that all?” If he choked on his words a little, then no one had to know.

 

“Actually, uh, no. Um, I wanted to ask, uhh.” The suave façade of earlier had disappeared, poofed into nonexistence. Geno actually seemed _nervous_ now. Sid would have felt a little bit of pride, if not for the fact that Sid himself was also currently a nervous wreck. “Are you free Friday night?” It came out so fast Sid almost thought he imagined it. Almost.

 

“No. Wait, I mean yes. Yes, I’m free.” Was Sid actually a native speaker of English? It sure didn’t seem like it.

“Would you be interested in go to dinner with me?” Sid didn’t need any convincing, but he was positive that the endearing look of hope on Geno’s face would have made anyone say yes to his offer.

 

“Yeah. I’d love to.” Sid couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. Neither could Geno, who looked like a puppy just shown a treat.

 

“Oh good!! I probably should get back to work now, but I see you on Friday?” He said it tentatively as if making sure Sid would stick with his answer. Sid nodded, and Geno gave him one last big smile before turning to leave. He made it about ten feet before Sid realized.

 

“Wait, Geno!” Geno turned around with wide eyes. “Uh, do you want my number? So you can uh call me or something, I don’t know.” Flustered Sid was back, and better than ever.

 

“Silly me! Totally forget!” Geno exclaimed as he took two long steps to get back to Sid’s desk. “Sid smart, that why he human fact-check machine.” Sid giggled for the second time, proving yet again that his man-card should have been revoked a loooong time ago. He scribbled his number onto a Post-It stuck to his desk and handed it to Geno.

 

Geno grinned. “Text you. Promise.” He held up his pinkie then turned to leave. As he left, Sid gave a little wave. So maybe their first meeting hadn’t been that bad after all.

 

* * *

 

When Sid got home, he set his phone down in the kitchen. Flower and Tanger, his roommates, were playing Call of Duty and chugging unhealthy amounts of Mountain Dew but paused as soon as Sid walked in.

 

“You look happy,” said Tanger.

 

“Did you finally use your history degree the way you planned?” Flower chimed in immediately after Tanger.

 

Sid laughed at the good-natured taunts. “Work today was good. That’s all.”

 

Tanger and Flower side-eyed each other as if Sid had said he was fluent in French — which was not true, but no one knew for sure. “What? Am I not allowed to be happy?” Sid chuckled.

 

“No. You’re allowed to be happy.”

 

“In fact, you’re typically a very _jubilant_ person.”

 

“But today you seem to be almost…”

 

“Glowing.”

 

“Yes, thank you. That’s the perfect word.”

 

“That’s not to say you don’t typically have a glowing personality.”

 

“You’re very likeable. But right now you are particularly…”

 

“Glowy.”

 

“Luminous.”  


“Radiant.”

 

“Okay, okay! I get the point.” Sid had long since lost track of what the hell Flower and Tanger were saying or who was saying what, but he couldn’t help but laugh. “Just don’t get your hopes up, but…”

 

“The suspense is killing me,” Tanger deadpanned as Flower said, “Too late, my hopes are already sky high.”

 

“Jesus, just let me speak. I’m going on a date next Friday.”

 

From the cheers that erupted from Sid’s roommates, you’d think they’d won the lottery. “Our little Sid is growing up!” Flower said feigning sobs.

 

“With who?” Tanger inquired.

 

“Just someone from work. It’s not a big deal.” Sid’s smile gave away his little lie. It totally _was_ a big deal, and Sid’s excitement levels were through the roof. “Now excuse me. I’m going to go change into sweatpants or something.” Sid meandered back into his room. When he emerged wearing a Montreal Canadiens t-shirt and Roots sweatpants — he was Canadian after all — Flower was holding his phone as Tanger bent over to see.

 

“Just out of curiosity, is your date with Geno from work parentheses parentheses parentheses?” Flower asked with innocence that both parties knew to be fake.

 

“Give me that!” Sid scurried over to Flower and Tanger and snatched his phone away. When he looked down, he saw a text from Geno.

 

**_Hi Sid! Is Geno from work)))_ **

He tapped out a response. **_Hey Geno!_** He sent it then quickly added on: **_What do the parentheses mean?_**

As he awaited a response, Sid gave Flower and Tanger a death glare. “I swear to god, you two are…ooh! He texted back.” His roommates snickered.

 

**_They smileys!!_ **

 

Sid grinned like an idiot at his phone. Jesus help him. He’d learned Geno’s name _today,_ and had just received a grand total of 2 texts from him and he was already acting dopey. Sid was fucked. Still, he couldn’t leave Geno hanging. **_Oh haha_** _,_ he sent. It was a lame response, he knew, but he wasn’t great at flirting. Sid could still hear Tanger and Flower laughing at hi so he pointedly walked to his room and closed the door.

 

 ** _)))))_** Geno sent more of his eyeless smileys before sending another text. **_For Friday, you want I’m pick you up?_**

**_If that works for you. Where were you thinking of going?_** His last relationship had ended because the other guy had thought Sid was too bossy, and he was determined not to let that happen again.

 

 ** _I’m want let you pick. I new, not know good place in the area._** Sid giggled at the hands of Geno for like the fifth time today. But what could he say? Geno’s grammar — or lack thereof — was adorable.

 

Sid thought for a moment on a good place for a first date. Somewhere nice, but not too nice. It had to have a diverse menu just in case Geno was a picky eater. And it couldn’t be somewhere where Sid’s stomach would wage an attack on his body after they ate. It’s not that Sid was hoping to get lucky — that was up in the air depending on how the date went. He just really did not want to spend his first date begging the restaurant toilet for dear mercy. So his favorite hole-in-the-wall Indian place was off the table no questions asked. And the Italian place he’d taken his parents when they visited was not really conducive to two guys on a 9 to 5 salary. The other Italian place down the street was also not an option; he really didn’t need garlic breath on the first date. There were simply no good first date restaurant options in the area. Unless… What about that new hipster place on the corner of 6th and Main St? It was nice and had a good atmosphere, but Sid could get away with spending twenty bucks on his entrée. And the menu was pretty generic save for the overabundance of Sriracha. Perfect.

 

 ** _There’s this place on 6 th and Main St that I’ve heard is pretty good. I think it’s called Aurelia? _**Perfect. Geno will never suspect that Sid totally over thought his restaurant choice.

 

 ** _Sounds good))) As long as it not french food. I HATE french food_** Sid laughed at the palpable loathe of French food then tapped out his reply.

 

**_LOL Don’t worry it’s not French. But may I ask why you hate French food?_ **

****

Geno elaborated and Sid laughed some more. They kept going back and forth like that for hours. As it turned out, Geno hated French food because there was “too much sauce and not enough salt.” He was also a zoology major and he consulted for the TV production company they worked at for their animal shows. His favorite movie was Transformers but he secretly really loved Disney movies because of all the animals. Geno had a penchant for sushi and had grown up playing hockey. He didn’t play very often anymore but he still tried to work out. He absolutely despised running, though, so he did a lot of swimming to get in some cardio. Sid responded with little tidbits about himself, too. Sid told Geno about how he’d been trying to learn French for what felt like a lifetime, yet he could still only say basic phrases. Geno had said he should try his hand at Russian. He also told him about the little old lady two floors down that had once given him a cookie that was the saltiest thing he’d ever tasted. He told Geno about how he refused to watch the local ABC news because the anchor, Claude Giroux, had flipped the bird at him when Sid had changed lanes in front of him. It was all fluff, but it was nice just sitting there for an hour and a half texting someone who seemed to enjoy what he had to say. If their text conversations were any indication, then Sid thought that their first date would go pretty well. Oh lord did he hope.

 

* * *

 

Friday rolled around faster than Sid expected. He and Geno had texted each other every night since Geno had asked him out and each night the conversation seemed to flow even easier. At work, they saw each other in the break room, across the office, on the way to lunch, et cetera. Geno had taken to making a funny face at Sid every time they made eye contact in passing. Most of the time, those were the best moments of his day. So yeah. Their really small, budding relationship was going phenomenally.

 

Which was _exactly_ the reason Sid needed to find the perfect outfit for their date. A tie was probably superfluous but what the hell did he wear for pants? Were slacks too formal? Did khakis make him look like a tool? What about jeans? Personally, he felt slim fit dark wash jeans would send “the wrong message,” but light wash seemed too trashy. Maybe he should just go with khakis. Fashion was way too fucking hard.

 

He heard a bang at his door.

 

“I can hear your agonizing-over-what-to-wear groans all the way from the kitchen.” It was Tanger.

 

“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t wear the khakis. They make you look like you’re seventy.” Flower was there too apparently.

 

“I can dress myself,” Sid retorted, though he knew it was fruitless. A millisecond later, Tanger and Flower had him surrounded and were digging through his closet.

 

“Ah ha! These are perfect! Don’t you agree?” Flower turned to Tanger and held up the slim fit dark wash jeans. Tanger nodded with a devious glint in his eye.

 

“Don’t you think they, I don’t know, seem too Cowboy Casanova?” Sid’s roommates erupted with uncontrollable laughter while Sid just stood there, not understanding the hilarity of his statement.

 

“Why are you so averse to showing off your _spectacular_ ass?” Tanger said after he finally calmed down.

 

“You’re going on a date! You should flaunt it!” Flower chimed in.

 

“And if you wear that baby blue button up it’ll offset the Cowboy Casanova-ness of the pants!” Sid flicked his eyes back and forth between his roommates and the pants skeptically.

 

“Fine. Now get. I need to change before Geno gets here.” Sid threw on the clothes then gazed self-consciously at his ass in the mirror. Once a hockey butt, always a hockey butt. His phone buzzed with a text from Geno letting Sid know that he was outside the apartment building. The doorman wouldn’t let him in. **_I’ll be right there_** he responded. Sid grabbed his wallet and keys then headed down.

  

* * *

 

 

Geno looked amazing. He’d worn a pair of jeans with a white button down with the top two buttons left open, but he’d decided to wear a blue blazer that perfectly framed his long, lean torso. His dark wavy hair was left untouched and was just long enough to lightly curl at the edges. Sid watched as Geno flitted his eyes up and down Sid’s body. As Sid turned slightly to the side, Geno’s eyes landed pointedly on his ass.

 

“Wow Sid. Look incredible,” he said a little breathlessly. Score.

 

“Thanks. You do too. I really love that blazer.”

 

Sid held Geno’s eyes for a second before Geno held out his arm and said, “Shall we?”

 

“What a gentleman,” Sid teased as he took his place beside Geno. Geno laid his large hand across Sid’s lower back and led them to his car. In the car, they chitchatted about nothing between Sid’s directions to the restaurant. What was notable, though, were Geno’s driving skills. He seemed to listen to the rules of the road as if they were merely gentle suggestions. More than once Sid had whacked Geno in the chest out of fear as Geno made yet another questionable (read: reckless) decision.

 

“Remind me to never let you drive again,” Sid said as they stepped out of the vehicle and handed the keys to the valet guy.

 

“I’m hurt! I drive fine,” Geno responded with mock insult.

 

“Fine is driving according to the speed limit and NOT pushing the limits of your brakes.” Though he said it firmly, Sid couldn’t help but laugh. In hindsight, the whole drive was actually hilarious and Geno’s face right now was even more hilarious. Geno threw his arm around Sid’s shoulders. It was only the beginning of their first date and he was already so physically affectionate with Sid. What could this mean? It probably meant Geno liked him, right? Of course Geno liked him; he’d asked him out. And why was he overthinking this anyway? Just enjoy the affection damn it! Sid leaned into Geno’s side and looked up at him. He smiled back down at Sid then turned to the hostess.

 

“Reservation for Malkin.” The waitress led them to their table.

 

“Thanks for thinking to get a reservation. This place is a zoo right now,” Sid said as soon as they sat down.

 

Geno smirked and tapped his head. “I most smart.” Sid giggled at that. Sid had been giggling a lot lately, and typically because of something Geno did. Every time, though, without fail, Geno’s eyes would soften as if Sid’s giggle was the most adorable thing in the world. It made Sid feel special, or at least like his laugh wasn’t the disgusting honk it was. This time was no different. Just being in Geno’s presence made his insides feel all mushy and fluttery. Sid blushed.

 

They sat in silence like that for a moment before Geno asked, “So you Canadian, yes?”

 

Sid nodded. “Yeah. Canadian and proud.”

 

“Where you from in Canada?” Geno said, tilting his head to the side.

 

“Nova Scotia. It’s the southeastern corner of Canada. On the coast.” Geno nodded slowly in response. “You don’t know where I’m talking about, do you?” Sid said with a small chuckle.

 

“Nope. No clue.” They both burst out laughing.

 

When he finally collected himself, Sid asked, “What about you? Where are you from?”

 

“Would you believe me if I said I native yinzer?” Geno joked.

 

“With that accent, probably not.” Sid’s smile remained unwaveringly large on his face.

 

“You got me. I from Magnitogorsk. Is steel town in Siberia.”

 

“Oh. How’d you end up in Pittsburgh?”

 

“Got my biology degree in Moscow then decided to move to states for grad school. Pitt offered me scholarship so I go.”

 

“I went to Carnegie Mellon. I didn’t go for my masters though. I’m not as ambitious I guess.”

 

“I’m sure Sid plenty ambitious. Carnegie Mellon very hard school.”

 

“Thanks,” Sid replied bashfully. “What about your family? Are they still in Magni…oh gosh I’m totally going to butcher the pronunciation.” Geno let out a hearty laugh. “Magnet-o-gor-sss-k?”

 

“Beautiful pronunciation!” Geno somehow managed to say between bouts of laughter.

 

“Oh shut up!” Sid said, but his bright smile gave away the fact that there was no power behind the words.

 

Geno finally calmed down. “Magnitogorsk,” he said fluidly. “Not worry. You get it eventually.” Was he referencing a future date? Sid sure hoped so. He was fairly sure that if Geno asked, Sid would marry him tomorrow. “And yes. Family still live there. I’m visit them as much as possible, but I have to work, so not very often.”

 

“I get it. I mean my family’s not as far as _Russia_ but Nova Scotia’s not exactly close, either. Plus, my parents still work too, so even if I’m off, they aren’t always free, so it’s always a mess trying to visit. I get to see my sister a lot though. She comes and stays with me during school breaks and stuff. Sometimes weekends.”

 

“You have sister? Sound like she little sister, yes?”

 

“Yeah. Taylor. She’s 16, eight years younger than me. She’s getting to be really independent. Now that she can drive I don’t have to babysit as often when she comes and visits.” Sid couldn’t help but gush about his sister a little bit; she was by far his favorite person on the planet and had been since she was born.

 

“I bet Sid _best_ big brother.”

 

“I try.” A blush crept up Sid’s neck. “Do you have any siblings?”

 

“Older brother Denis. He not much older than me. Only a year. But it sound like we not get along as well you and Taylor.”

 

“The age difference probably helps. By the time she was able to fully talk I was already a teenager.”

 

“Very true.”

 

It was nice. The conversation lulled but their smiles never wavered. When the waitress walked up to take their order, Sid realized he’d spent so much time talking to Geno that he hadn’t given the menu so much as a passing glance. It didn’t make much of a difference though. He ended up ordering a pretty generic sounding chicken and pasta dish, like always, and the cheapest wine they had. Geno, on the other hand, decided to order a more expensive glass “just to see what the whoop is all about.”

 

“I’ve had expensive wines before, and I’ll be honest, I can’t taste the difference. They all just taste like grape juice and alcohol.”

 

Geno laughed at that. “You probably right. I not think I be able to tell difference either.” When their wine came, they both tried a sip from both glasses. “I’m get robbed! I swear there no difference yet mine 15 bucks more! Ridiculous!”

 

Sid erupted with laughter. “I told you! The wine industry is a scam. They’re all the same.” They continued laughing and talking about how absurd booze companies were. Besides wine, they were both in agreement that Jack Daniels was just as good as whatever ridiculous, thousand-dollar nonsense sat on the top shelf of the bar. It was really a great date. Except for one tiny thing. Half way through a shared plate of Sriracha artichoke dip (really? Was the Sriracha necessary?) Sid felt the telltale pulses of an oncoming migraine. Great. Just great. Sid tried to hide his growing agony and keep up with the conversation, but eventually his headache caught up with him. Geno was in the middle of telling a story about how he ran into Ilya Kovalchuk at the Moscow airport when Sid grimaced.

 

“Sid, something wrong?” Geno looked at him with a mix of concern and panic.

 

“No, no I’m fine.” He tried to shake his head but it just made his head pound even more.

 

“Did I do something, say something wrong?” Geno asked apologetically. “If I did I really sorry.”

 

“No Geno you’ve been great. This date has been great; it’s just…” Sid had to squeeze his eyes shut as another wave of pain hit.

 

“Is ok. Not hurt my feelings. If you don’t like just say so,” from anyone else it probably would’ve sounded self-centered, but coming from Geno it felt genuine and assuring even if that wasn’t his concern.

 

“No really. I really like you.” This didn’t seem to quell Geno’s fear, though, so Sid leaned across the table and kissed him. It lasted only seconds but it was great. Geno’s plush but chapped lips easily slid across Sid’s and Geno lifted a large hand to rest on Sid’s cheek. Sid kept it light and soft, until of course, his head decided to wage war on the rest of him, _again._ Honestly, of all the days to get a migraine, it had to be this one. Sid pulled away. “I just have a really bad migraine.”

 

Instantly, Geno’s face melted to display an endearing amount of concern and desire to care for him. “Oh Sid. We get you home. Let’s go. Crowded restaurant not good for hurt head.”

 

“I can power through. You haven’t even gotten your food. You must be starving.” It was almost instinct at this point to protest whenever someone wanted to sacrifice for him. It probably wasn’t healthy, but whatever.

 

“I tell waitress to cancel order. If we hungry we can get something quick and quiet. Plus, is less expensive if we leave.”

 

Sid laughed but immediately regretted it because it sent painful shock waves through his brain.

“Are you sure?” Sid asked tentatively.

 

“Positive.” Geno vigorously nodded his head. “Take best care of Sid. Come on let’s go.” Geno stood up so Sid did the same. Sid startled a little when Geno carefully put his arm over Sid’s shoulder and pulled him close. Geno was probably the most easily physically-affectionate person Sid had ever met; Sid liked it. Geno led through the loud restaurant. God, was Sid glad he was leaving. He swore that the hipster music was making it worse; the scratchy voices, obnoxiously loud drums, and techno disgustingness were driving him insane. Suddenly, they stopped as Geno said something to the waitress and handed her a hundred-dollar bill. “Can you cancel our order? He sick. This should cover whatever we already had. Rest is tip.” The tip would probably end up being close to 60 bucks. Holy shit.

  

* * *

 

 

They got to Sid’s apartment building, much more legally this time, and hopped out. “Thank you so much for everything. I’m sorry I had to cut this short,” Sid said apologetically.

 

“Is not your fault Sid. Here, I walk you to door.” Geno moved forward until his hand was on Sid’s waist. Sid smiled up at him. They walked into the building then stood in the elevator, Sid leaning on Geno heavily. When they got to Sid’s floor and approached Sid’s door, he heard music and people yelling. Fuck. Flower and Tanger must’ve thrown a party. Damn it. His head was about to burst. It was so fucking loud. “Sid, you okay? Are you sure you want to stay here? Seems a little…” he made chaotic gestures around his head, and Sid understood but couldn’t really do anything about it.

 

“I don’t have anywhere else I could go…” It hurt just thinking about trying to work through a migraine in the midst of whatever was happening in his apartment. He knew that his roommates would probably clear it out if they knew Sid felt sick, but it sounded like everyone was everyone was having fun and he really didn’t want to bother them. And besides, stepping foot inside his apartment and waiting for it all to settle down was the last thing he wanted to do. He really just wanted to go somewhere quiet with Geno…

 

“Could stay at my place?” Geno asked meekly. Sid could tell that Geno was afraid of crossing a line, but it didn’t matter to Sid. He’d much rather stay with Geno in what was presumably a quieter building. “Only old ladies live in my building. They not throw loud parties.” Sid laughed lightly before nodding his head. Mistake.

 

“I’d like that.” Geno turned them around and they walked back to his car. In the car, Geno reached out and held Sid’s hand. They drove in silence, but the gentle pressure of Geno’s hand in Sid’s was perfect.

 

When they pulled up to a stoplight Sid opened his mouth and said, “Thank you Geno. For everything. You’re really amazing.” Geno smiled softly at him.

 

“I’m try my best.” Even through the migraine, Sid could make out the beauty in the city lights. He hadn’t ever really noticed it before, but here, basking in the soft warmth of Geno’s presence, everything was magnified; it was truly a magical moment. As it turned out, Geno lived in a small, but nice looking building on the outskirts of downtown. Sid felt a twinge of disappointment when Geno let go of his hand to get out of the car, but that was quickly eased by Geno’s delicate touch to the small of Sid’s back.

 

They made their way up to the apartment where Geno rifled through some cabinets in search of something. “Ah ha! Sid, you want Excedrin?”

 

“Yes please,” he said desperately from his spot on Geno’s large, soft couch. Geno handed him the Excedrin bottle and a glass of water.

 

Geno said, “I go get you sleep clothes. Tight jeans look good, but not very comfy,” placing a broad hand on Sid’s shoulder before turning to what was presumably his bedroom. He came back holding a well-worn t-shirt graced with Russian that Sid couldn’t understand, and a pair of sweatpants that would most likely pool at his ankles. But that was okay. They seemed snug and warm, which was exactly what Sid wanted. Sid took them with a smile. “Umm I guess I go wait in room while you change…” Geno’s arms fell awkwardly at his sides as he gestured with his head towards his room. Jerkily, he made his retreat. Sid didn’t say anything, but the display widened his smile. Geno was the most charming person Sid had ever met, even if part of his charm was his goofiness. Sid changed quickly then called for Geno to come back.

 

“Thanks. Do you happen to have an extra toothbrush?”

 

“Oh um, let me check.” He dashed off back into his bathroom. He seemed so eager to help Sid yet so jumpy, as if he was afraid of screwing up, at the same time. “I have extra. Here, I help you.”

Sid really didn’t need help getting to the bathroom, but if it meant that he got to be closer to Geno’s tall, muscular body, then Sid would relish in the opportunity. They brushed their teeth and got ready for bed side by side, Geno changing into a pair of thin pajama pants and nothing else, before he said, “Umm you can sleep in my bed and I sleep on couch,” looking to Sid for approval.

 

“I really don’t want to kick you out of your bed. It’s fine; I’ll sleep on the couch. You’ve done enough for me already,” Sid protested weakly. He could tell by the look in Geno’s eyes that he wasn’t going to waver on who got priority on sleeping in the bed.

 

“No. Sid hurt. I fine. You sleep on bed.” As he said it, Geno laid his warm hand on Sid’s forearm, making Sid feels tingly at the point of contact.

 

“I can’t kick you out of your bed,” he insisted.

 

“Sid…” It sounded like a plea, as if Geno was begging Sid to let him take care of him.

 

“You could, umm, sleep in the bed with me?” Sid stumbled over his words and avoided eye contact like the plague, but, through a valiant effort, he managed to get the words out, though he was petrified that he’d overstepped his bounds.

 

“Are you sure?” Geno’s voice was gentle, and the pressure from his hand was steadfast and comforting. Sid nodded. Slowly (and just a little bit awkwardly) they made their way to Geno’s enormous bed. Sid watched as Geno maneuvered his long limbs under the covers then opened up a spot for Sid. As he lay down, something still felt off, stiff.

 

Gradually, Sid rolled over to face Geno, who was as still as a rock, trying desperately not to disturb Sid. Sid caught his eye and smiled, then scooched closer just the teeniest bit. Geno got the message and lifted his arm, making a spot for Sid right beside him. Sid shuffled over until his chest was flush with Geno’s side. He tenderly nuzzled into Geno’s chest and reached his arm across Geno’s waist, as Geno curled his arm around Sid’s back with one arm and petted bicep with the other. Sid could feel the rise and fall of Geno’s chest when he took a deep breath and sighed, which made Sid smile into his torso.

 

“Geno?” he murmured.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’m sorry I interrupted our date, but, if you want to, maybe we can try again?”

 

Geno continued stroking Sid’s side gently. “I not have plans all tomorrow. We could hang out?” It was barely above a whisper, but it was all the confirmation Sid needed.

 

“That sounds perfect.”

 

“Perfect,” he repeated softly. Maybe it was his imagination, but Sid felt a ghost of a kiss against his hair. Laying like this, surrounded by Geno and his warmth, Sid couldn’t help but be thankful for that goddamn migraine. Because Geno was right. Everything, from when Geno had boldly asked him out, to this moment — Geno’s heartbeat in Sid’s ear, their bodies pressed together and their legs intertwined — was perfect. Simply perfect.


End file.
